


Adrenaline

by orphan_account



Category: Vampires (1998)
Genre: M/M, Post Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-09-13
Updated: 2002-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-26 00:59:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post movie tag.  Killing vampires gets the adrenaline going.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adrenaline

The Slayer staggered under the weight of the impaled monster as it writhed and screamed and lashed at him with claws extended. His arms trembled with fatigue; it had taken the better part of three hours to hunt down and execute the remaining Master vampires. This was the last of them, her pale inhuman features contorted as she struggled to reach his throat. The pole he held started to sag as her contortions rocked his balance and he realised with a sort of sick horror that he had no more reserves left. The vampire snarled in triumph as she sensed his weakness. She grabbed his head with both hands, her insane eyes filmed with bloodlust, her fetid breath turning his stomach even as he held the pole away with the last of his strength. Inexorably she strained closer. He stared at Death and spat in its face, and watched the spittle drip unheeded.

The impact of the blow shuddered through the pole. Crow watched in disbelief and dawning hope as metal coated with black oozing blood erupted from the well-endowed chest. The vampire screamed, an unholy sound that speared his skull. Over the writhing stinking mass loomed Father Guiteau, his young face transformed by a wild, mad grin. Both hands gripped the spear that impaled the monster from behind. Crow blinked the sweat and blood from his eyes and returned the grin.

“You took your time, Padre.”

“I’m new at this, remember.” The priest laughed.

“Well, you’re a fucking natural!”

They staggered out into the sunlight, the screeching, writhing figure held firm between them; then ducked and rolled away as the thing ignited, the shock wave driving them into the dirt. Slowly, painfully, they climbed to their feet and assessed injuries.

“Well that was fun,” he said, with all the irony he felt able to muster. He looked at the young man who was casually, futiley attempting to brush the accumulated muck of assorted vampires from his clothes. “What the hell are you laughing at?”

Guiteau grinned at him. Crow knew from experience that the exhilaration would take a while to fade. Picking his way carefully through assorted charred remains he stopped in front of the priest. Leaning in close, he grabbed the man’s groin and squeezed.

“Well you weren’t lying about the ‘wood’.”

Guiteau met his eyes unwaveringly. He licked his lips, his eyes wide and still somewhat wild. “Major chubby,” he breathed. He stepped right up close to the other man, the movement pressing his groin into the cupped hand.

“Funny side effect, that. Don’t you think, Padre?”

“Think?”

Crow grinned at the somewhat glazed expression in his new partner’s eyes. His free hand slid under the lank sweaty hair on Guiteau’s neck, and he joined their mouths in a bruising, exhilarating kiss that was a celebration of victory and survival. The mouth that opened under his was a surprise, but he didn’t hesitate to take advantage of the offer, and they stood like that; amid the slaughter, until someone moaned, it could have been either; or both.

Crow broke the kiss with an effort, avoiding the mouth that sought to recapture his. His own erection strained the fabric of his jeans. He pressed his face into the join of neck and shoulder, feeling the warmth of the sun on the priest’s black shirt. With shaking fingers he released his cock, shoving his jeans down to his thighs. Desperation made him rough as he ripped open the other man’s cotton pants, but Guiteau obviously could have cared less; enthusiastic hands helped him breach the last barrier. Eagerly they reached for each other, oblivious to the grime encrusted state of their hands.

The midday desert sun beat down on the oblivious men. Completion came quickly, the release of adrenaline leaving behind only exhaustion and the soreness from accumulated minor injuries. Spent, they leaned against each other.

Eventually they staggered over to the truck and climbed inside. Crow regarded the young priest somberly. “I promised Montoya two days head start. After that I’ll hunt him down and kill him and his whore.”

Guiteau returned his gaze steadily. “I’m coming with you.”

“I thought you’d say that.” Crow held out his hand, and Guiteau shook it firmly. “Partner.”


End file.
